


Seductress

by RoadrunnerGER



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Demon Sex, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Seduction, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, involuntarily willing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-06-16 06:57:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoadrunnerGER/pseuds/RoadrunnerGER
Summary: When Manhattan's Special Victims Unit catches an especially mysterious case, only two men can help catching the suspect: Dean and Sam Winchester.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All it took was a remark made by my beta-reader and I was thoroughly distracted from Homicide's Legacy by this “oneshot”. As she had drifted off from writing Law&Order to two Supernatural stories, she had encouraged me to check the latter out. Reluctantly, I watched a couple of episodes... and now I'm in season five. LOL  
> Anyway, big thanks to [User24601](https://archiveofourown.org/users/User24601/pseuds/User24601) for beta-reading... and inspiring this crossover. Enjoy!

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/138641398@N05/42779362235/in/dateposted-public/)

 

* * *

 

 

"Alright," Lieutenant Benson cautioned, "We don't know what we're dealing with, so be careful. Keep your eyes peeled and report anything unusual. Check everything at least once, double check if you have to. It is high time we get to the bottom of this."

Nodding in agreement, her detectives left the surveillance van and headed to the two clubs they had chosen to stake out. All four of the cops were dressed in plain clothes and wearing hidden cameras. The plan was to mingle with the unsuspecting guests.

Their primary task was to identify a suspect. Once they identified a person of interest, they might have a chance at locating their perpetrator. It was a far-fetched theory with little evidence to base it on, but right at that moment, it was all they had.

Detective Dominick Carisi and his partner Amanda Rollins entered the Black Heron club one after the other and went in different directions. While Rollins strolled towards the dance floor, Carisi crossed over to the bar where he asked for a bottle of non-alcoholic beer, hoping that no one would pay close enough attention to what he was drinking and surmise that he was on the job.

Carisi also knew that he had to be careful with his drink. Usually, he would have to be concerned about liquid ecstasy or GHB, but now the squad suspected that some new drug was on the market.

 _And there's the crux about the case_ , he thought, _because there's no hard evidence._ _All we have are similar sexual offenses that seem to have occurred under mysterious circumstances and with perpetrators who claim a loss of control_.

Sipping at his drink, Carisi wandered around the dance floor, searching for a place to sit and watch inconspicuously. Claiming a seat near the emergency exit gave him a chance to keep an eye on most of the club.

Between the other dancers, he spotted Rollins' blond shock of hair. Swaying and bopping with the rhythm, she looked like she was enjoying herself.

_Well, nobody says you shouldn't enjoy your work._

Of course, Carisi knew that she did not take her job lightly, and neither did he. Already, he had spotted two possible suspects. Between his search for anything alarming, he repeatedly checked on them.

One was a woman in a tight pink dress who seemed overly friendly with multiple people. Right then, she brushed a strand of her long black curls back behind her ear as she chatted with an older man. Maybe she was a professional.

The other person Carisi found suspicious was a man with short light brown hair and a jeans jacket. Aside from not quite fitting in at the club in general, the way his astute eyes scanned his surroundings just like Carisi's did, piqued the detective's interest.

His phone buzzed.

'Malina Cortez,' said Benson's text message regarding the woman in the pink dress. 'Arrested twice for solicitation.'

 _Anything on the guy?_ Carisi texted back

'No. He's not in the system.' A second later, he got another message, reading, 'You think something's sketchy?'

 _I don't know_ , Carisi sent, _He could be our man..._ _or not._

'Hard to tell without an identification. Just keep your eyes open.'

Nodding, Carisi looked at where he had last seen the man and found him gone. Rollins was still dancing. A couple of minutes passed and Carisi contemplated getting another drink when he got a message that the operation was canceled.

"Hello, pretty boy," a female voice came from his side just as he was about to get up. "You look kinda lost."

Turning to the redhead to his left, Carisi smiled guardedly.

"Hey," he replied and took a last swig of his beer, "Actually, I was about to leave."

"Oh, such a pity," she purred, resting her hand on his. “I'm Erin. Are you sure you don't want to stay?”

"I really have to go," Carisi insisted. "My boss called just a minute ago."

Though she smiled a freckled smile, her green eyes looked sad, "Well, if you gotta go, you gotta go."

Carisi hardly spared her a thought as he got up to leave. To him, she seemed nice but did not leave a lasting impression. Besides, he had a job to do.

When he and Rollins rejoined the rest of the team, Benson explained the new situation.

"We've just had another assault. The victim is on the way to Bellevue now and her assailant was caught right on scene. Name's Roger Haines, thirty-two, no criminal record. It happened right around the corner of the Black Heron club where he had been earlier tonight. Unis are taking Haines to the precinct and I want Fin and Carisi to take his statement. Rollins, we're going to Bellevue."

"On it," Fin and Carisi confirmed simultaneously and returned to their precinct where Haines was awaiting his interview in one of the interrogation rooms.

Just for a moment, Carisi paused outside to look at him through the two-way mirror. Haunted and restless, squirming in his seat, Haines was a picture of misery, and Carisi suspected to know what they were about to hear.

Actually, Carisi was not at his best either. During the ride to the station, he began to feel unusually stimulated and had to keep crossing his legs to hide a budding erection. Knowing that now was definitely not the right time, he took a deep breath and buried his desire.

As he and Fin stepped into the room, Haines instantly turned to them, shooting up from his chair.

"How is she?" Haines anxiously demanded to know. "I need to know..."

"Sit," Fin commanded.

"Please!" Haines begged. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

"You were read your rights, correct?" Carisi asked, getting a determined nod in return.

"I don't want a lawyer," Haines meekly declared as he sank down in his chair. "What I did was horrible! I... I just couldn't control it."

Sitting down opposite their suspect, Fin asked, "Why don't we start at the beginning? You tell us what happened."

"I was at the club, enjoying myself, dancing, having a drink..." Haines trailed off there, his cheeks turning red. "I've danced with her. We chatted. She was so nice, we had a good time. I felt drawn to her... and that became stronger. I can't explain it. I've never felt such an overwhelming sexual drive."

Fin still looked skeptical. Carisi on the other hand could emphasize with the man. With every passing minute, his libido was acting up more. Fantasies pushed to the forefront of his mind. He became as restless as Haines and contemplated going to the restroom before it became embarrassing.

"You can't imagine what it felt like," Haines just argued. "It was like I was watching from the inside while something else commanded my body. I... NEEDED to do it. It's all I could think about, relieving that need, while my logical mind knew it was wrong. So I apologized while I kept assaulting her. It was horrifying! I hate what I did, still I couldn’t stop it!"

By now, Haines was so worked up that tears glistened in his eyes. They began to fall when he heaved a sob and totally broke down.

A knock on the window pane called the cops away. As they left the interrogation room, they discovered that their assistant district attorney Rafael Barba had been watching.

"Now isn't that the most ridiculous story we've ever heard?" Barba scoffed. "I mean, you're not buying it, are you?"

"We called in the medical examiner," Fin explained, “To test his blood. Could be he is telling the truth and he’s been drugged. In that case, he’d be just be another victim.”

"Liv told me that she suspects a new drug to be on the market," Barba remarked wryly, "that it can totally make people lose their inhibitions. In my opinion, the mere idea of something like that is pure science fiction."

To Carisi, the counselor's snark was an irresistible turn on. In his suit trousers he felt proof of his rising agitation. The way his hormones seemed to run amok, he might lose it soon.

"Maybe he finds a defense lawyer whom he can sell it," Barba went on unperturbed, "but from where I'm standing, he committed rape. Period."

"We still need to follow up the drug angle," Fin argued.

Glancing over at Fin, Carisi suddenly saw his college in a new light. The dark complexion and the manicured facial hair, coupled with his masculine aura made the man down right sexy. The junior detective was now beyond sneaking away and taking care of himself in private.As attractive as Fin suddenly appeared to be, though, it was nothing compared to the allure Rafael Barba presented. Right then, thedetective only had eyes for the attorney. Carisi's feelings for their prosecutor had turned into something more than admiration a long time ago and now it broke its way out of its conventional restraints.

Taking just two long strides forward to cross the distance between them, Carisi grabbed Barba by the lapels of his suit to pull him close and pressed a crushing kiss to his lips.

Barba's eyes grew wide with shock.

"Carisi!" Fin cried out, "What are you doing?"

Reaching for his co-worker's arm turned out to be a mistake as Carisi shoved him off with surprising strength and determination, sending Fin sprawling on the linoleum floor. Feverishly, the detective kept kissing Barba who still was too perplexed to respond. Only when Carisi began to pull on his tie and the buttons of his suit jacket, the attorney started to struggle.

"Carisi!" Barba gasped when the detective's mouth moved on to his throat, long fingers still fumbling with his clothes. "Carisi! Stop! What...?"

Once more, his mouth was sealed by Carisi's. Now Barba tried to push him away. Fin came to his aid together with two other officers. The three of them managed to separate Carisi from Barba.

"No!" Carisi whined desperately. "Let me! Please!"

His physical state was clearly visible in his trousers while his mental state appeared to be debatable.

"Detective," Barba snapped. "What's wrong with you?"

“Nothing's wrong with me,” Carisi panted, writhing in the men's hold. “I just know what I want. And what I want is to fuck you, you hot piece of ass.”

Momentarily thrown off kilter by the unusually blunt remarks, the prosecutor just stared at his co-worker. Meeting the detective's wild gaze, irises blown so wide that his eyes were more black than blue now, Barba realized that something was definitely wrong.

"Holding cell?"

"No," Fin decided. "Bunk room."

Between the three of them, they maneuvered the struggling Carisi down the hall while Barba followed, watching anxiously.

"The M.E. should test his blood, too," Fin suggested as they shoved Carisi down on a bottom bunk bed. Before he could straighten up, though, Carisi grabbed him.

"Fin!" he pleaded, "You're my friend. Let me blow you! It will be magic! I promise."

"Handcuffs," Fin declared, exasperated. This was not the man he knew. All three of them were necessary to cuff Carisi to the wrought-iron frame, and then he kept writhing in a vain attempt to free himself.

“Please!” Carisi begged, wriggling to push his groin into the mattress best as he could. With every word, his wails became more desperate, “Please fuck me! Any of you! Please!”

While the other two officers discreetly left, Tutuola and Barba hovered beside the bed, listening with growing horror and concern to the obscenities Carisi spat at them, all the while squirming for relief.

"Maybe you should take pity on him," Barba suggested.

"And what?" Fin asked back in shock. "Jerk him off?"

"Of course not," Barba scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Just take one of the cuffs off."

Skeptically, Fin eyed his colleague.

"You want to let him keep suffering?" Barba asked. "He's practically in agony."

Fin still found it difficult to make a decision, but when the attorney kept pushing, he gave him the keys and another pair of cuffs. “If you want to tangle with him, be my guest. But there's no way I'm going anywhere near him until he calms down.”

With that parting statement, Tutuola left the bunk room. Judging by the sounds he heard through the door, it did not take long for the counselor to free one of the detective's hands and for Carisi to find completion.

 

xXx

 

An hour later, the medical examiner had taken the samples and Carisi was sitting where Haynes previously sat. The detective looked abashed and as miserable as if he was suffering from a huge hangover.

"I'm sorry," he muttered for the umpteenth time. "Really. I don't know what to say."

"Then stop apologizing," Barba sighed. The prosecutor had loosened his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Judging by his flushed face, the situation did not just pass him by.

"I'm more interested in what you have to say about incident than an apology," Benson stated.

Like everyone else, the lieutenant was baffled by what happened. In corroboration, the victim they had interviewed at Bellevue had claimed the same for Haines, saying that he was constantly apologizing to her during the assault as if he was not in control.

"I don't know what came over me," Carisi dismally explained. "I already felt funny when we returned from the club and it became worse during interrogation." Hiding his crimson face behind his hands, he went on, “When we got out after the interview, I wanted to go to the restroom and... you know...” Dropping his hands, he glanced down at his groin. From there, he looked up at his co-workers as if seeking help, his features screwing up with a pained expression. “But... but then I saw Barba and... God, I'm so sorry.”

“Can you tell me why the hell seeing _me_ set you off ?” Barba groused.

“Well...”

Nobody believed it to be possible, but Carisi's sheepish expression darkened even more to a deep shade of red.

“Spit it out, Detective,” Barba snarked in a tone that never failed to work on Carisi.

“BecauseIhaveacrushonyou,” Carisi mumbled.

“I'm sorry, what was that?” inquired the prosecutor.

“Because I... I have a crush on you,” Carisi admitted and shrank back in his chair, knowing that any chance he might ever have had to getting closer with Barba had just flown right out the window. Now that he had admitted to his attraction openly, Barba would certainly keep him away at arm's length.

What Carisi did not expect was to hear him laugh.

“Do you feel better now you've got that off your chest?” Barba asked with a small chuckle. “Now you can stop making up excuses to stay late at my office and work on cases with me.”

“You knew?” Carisi blurted out, his features derailing.

Glancing over at Fin and the lieutenant, Carisi noticed them both holding back their reactions, though Liv was more obvious as she placed a hand over her mouth to hide her grin.

“Am I that obvious?” Carisi groaned.

“I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're afraid of,” Barba told him. One corner of his mouth quirked up to a lopsided grin, but whatever was on his mind remained his secret. “Now we need to figure out what we're dealing with, though.”

“I don't think it's a drug,” Carisi replied readily. “There's no way that someone managed to slip something into my bottle.”

“Let's just wait for the lab report,” Benson threw in, refraining from arguing, “Then we'll see.”

Thoughtfully, Carisi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“When I think about it, there's also been recent cases of men who were arrested for indecent exposure...” he mused aloud. “They also claimed to have experienced an inexplicable episode of overwhelming arousal.”

“Right, which was the first hint at a new drug being responsible,” Fin agreed.

“Could it be that those men probably demonstrated restraint?” Carisi asked into the round, “That they resorted to masturbating in public in order to avoid assaulting anybody?”

“We can't rule that out,” Benson shrugged. “But whatever is going on... it seems to be a powerful stuff.”

“But Narcotics didn't hear about anything new, right?” Barba asked, “That's why you went in undercover.”

“We tried to catch someone red-handed,” Benson nodded. “And we must have been right, seeing that Carisi was affected. Now we need to figure out who it was and how they are administering the drug.”

“We've got the club's security footage by now,” Fin provided. “Rollins is already watching it for any trace of a suspect.”

“Alright,” Benson agreed. “So... Carisi, do you have anything else to share?”

“No,” he shook his head, his cheeks still flushed, “I'm humiliated enough as it is.”

Thankfully, Barba laughed good-naturedly. While Benson and Fin left to join Rollins view the videos, the prosecutor stayed behind. Carisi did not dare look up at him, but he could see on the periphery of his vision that he stepped closer. Nervously, Carisi got to his feet, hoping that he could appease the anger that certainly was coming now.

Instead, Barba crossed the last distance and breathed a kiss on Carisi's cheek. Seeing the detective's dumbfounded expression, Barba cast him a diabolic grin before he turned and walked out.

 

tbc...

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Pheromones._

_Lots of powerful, sexual pheromones._

Even a day after the incident, Carisi still could not believe it, but that was what the lab found.

“So, this is our suspect,” Rollins pointed out, pinning up a screenshot from the security footage. The image showed the redhead who had tried to chat up Carisi right before he was about to leave the previous night. “Erin Peterson, twenty-eight, tax accountant from Green Bay, Wisconsin. No criminal record. Her fiancé reported her missing five months ago.”

“What's a clean-cut person like her doing mixed up with such shady business?” Fin thought out loud.

“She wouldn't be the first one who was dragged down the wrong path by the wrong person,” Rollins shrugged.

The lab report also hung on the board, the most important part underlined: Pheromones are chemicals capable of acting like hormones outside the body of the secreting individual, to impact the behavior of the receiving individuals. Axillary steroids are potent human pheromones that influence sociosexual behavior.

In other words, the dose that Carisi had received turned him into a sex-crazed animal.

“We don't know yet how she administered the drug,” Benson stated, “I was informed that the evidence of pheromones in his system was only detectable because we were able to take a sample from Carisi so soon after the drug entered his system. So you need to be careful. Nobody knows what that woman intends to achieve by dealing it out, but we can't have her turning innocent men into rapists.”

“The lab tech said he'd never seen anything like it before,” Fin added, “so it's unlikely he'll be able to decipher the molecular structure. Without that, it's nearly impossible to track it to its source. And I for one want to know where this stuff is coming from.”

“Well, we can ask her after she's been arrested,” Benson declared. “Let's go.”

 

xXx

 

Back at the club, Carisi found a corner table to sit. From there, he let his gaze roam over the other guests. This time, the Lagoona club was the only one they were staking out, as it seemed to be the woman's favorite hunting ground. Nobody could guess yet what her aim might be, but she was dangerous and it was vital that they apprehended her before she caused anymore harm.

As the detective studied the people at the bar, he noticed the young man whom he had seen the previous night as well. At that moment, the man was chatting animatedly with another guy who stood a head taller than him and whose hazel brown hair fell around his face in waves. In Carisi's opinion, the guy could do with a haircut. With the plaid flannel shirt that he wore loosely over his blue jeans, he looked like a student. His companion with light brown hair appeared to be getting angry. Even from a distance, Carisi could tell.

Right at that moment, the redheaded woman walked past the two men.

Alerted at once, Carisi watched Erin Petersen stop a few feet down the bar from the men and order a drink. Getting up from his seat, Carisi let the team know that he had spotted her. As he slowly approached the counter, he noticed Fin who seemed to be walking in the same direction.

In the brief moment Carisi had taken his eyes off Petersen to glance at his colleague, she had disappeared.

_Where did she go? Probably to the restrooms,_ he deduced and crossed over to the respective door. Purposefully, he strode to the ladies' restroom and knocked, opening the door a crack.

“NYPD,” he announced, “I need to search this room.”

The first thing he noticed when he walked in was that nobody was at the sinks.

“Is anybody in here?” Carisi asked as he approached the row of stalls, but he got no response.

Instead, the redhead stepped out from behind one of the doors.

“Hello,” she cooed, angling her body to a seductive pose, “Did you come for me, sugar?”

It was all Carisi could do not to stare. Though he remembered her as nothing out of the ordinary, she definitely did not look like that now. Her long red curls cascaded down over her shoulders, and while her green dress did not seem extraordinary before, the tight fitting garment now appeared to shimmer with hundreds of crystals, accentuating her shape in all the right curves.

Caught off guard, Carisi did not even think about producing his service piece. She did not present a threat after all.

“You should step back from her,” a sharp voice cut into the loaded encounter.

Turning his head, Carisi discovered the young man whom he had watched earlier.

“This is a police business, sir,” Carisi stated. “I need you to leave.”

“Can't do that, man,” the newcomer replied with a lopsided shrug.

Being close to him this time, Carisi could take in details about the guy's appearance, the black t-shirt that he wore beneath a lightweight, dark green jean jacket and an interesting pendant on a leather thong around his neck. With black jeans and sneakers, he seemed to be a regular guy, if it was not for the huge knife that he pulled out from under his jacket.

“Sir, put down the knife,” Carisi ordered.

“Sorry, no can do,” the stranger replied, gripping the hilt tighter, “And you really should step back from her.”

Carisi could see his determination and was about to call in his colleagues when the woman stepped even closer to him.

“Stop right there!” the stranger dared, raising his left hand to stall her. There was no mistaking his deadly seriousness in his tone as he snarled, “Get away from him. I'm only telling you once.”

“Dean Winchester,” she purred, clicking her tongue reprovingly.

Carisi felt Erin touch his hand, but she kept speaking to the stranger, “You know, you should relax, honey. This hunting job is way too stressful for you.”

Dean, as she had called him, blinked in an attempt to focus on her.

“Don't you dare touch him, you filthy demon spawn,” he warned, his voice hoarse with tension.

“Dean,” she admonished in a flirtatious tone, “Shouldn't you have brought the colt for that?”

Stepping aside, she took cover behind the detective.

Carisi did not see anything wrong with that as the stranger was a civilian and he was a cop. If anyone was going to stop her, it was him. Though he honestly did not know why he would do such a thing.

“Sir, it would be better if you left,” Carisi said, pushing his suit jacket back to reveal the Glock in its holster as well as the badge on his belt. “Now.”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “The evil bitch is mine. Now get away from her!”

“She's in police custody,” Carisi claimed even though he had not arrested her, which actually was a ridiculous idea. Somehow, he had to convince this Dean guy to leave them the hell alone.

“Look, Detective, she's not what you think she is,” Dean declared earnestly, imploring the cop, “She's dangerous.”

“Dean,” the woman snickered, “It's already too late. You really should leave us alone.”

For some odd reason, Dean seemed to have trouble with focusing, his stance faltering and his brows creasing with concentration.

“Did she touch you?” he turned to Carisi. “Detective! Did she touch you?”

Despite remembering that she did, Carisi shook his head no.

“Dean,” she purred, blowing a kiss at him across the detective's shoulder, “Leave him alone.”

As if said kiss hit him like a punch in the chest, Dean swayed on his feet.

For some reason that he could not quite grasp, Carisi did not think that was odd. He also did not think it was odd that the woman snuggled up to him either. Her caress on his cheek was more than welcome and he turned his face toward her, meeting her in a light kiss.

“Hell, no!” Dean groaned, lunging at her with the blade raised.

Stunned, Carisi watched as Dean suddenly slammed against the wall to his right as if he was lifted and pushed by a giant hand. As he slumped to the floor, the hunter tried to get back up and retrieve the knife he lost. The same invisible force pushed him with his back against the wall, though, pinning him there.

Carisi smiled.

_Serves him right,_ he thought. _That's what he gets for messing with her._

“Detective,” Dean croaked, fighting against whatever force held him. “You have to fight.”

Carisi did not see any reason to fight. Actually, he felt pretty good.

“C'mon, babe,” the redhead cooed seductively. “Ignore him. He's just jealous.”

Taking the detective by the hand, Erin led him to the door. While she paused in the open passage, Carisi walked out first. Looking back down at the hunter, she winked at the still trapped Dean who began to choke and loose consciousness.

Then Carisi and the woman left the club through a back door.

 

xXx

 

Slowly regaining consciousness, Dean returned to an ache throughout his body. From above, he repeatedly heard a sound that made no sense to him yet. Gradually, he realized that someone called his name, someone crouching beside him.

“Dean! C'mon, bro, talk to me!”

The insistent voice finally pulled Dean back into reality. Lifting his head with an effort, he recognized his brother.

“Sammy,” he groaned, trying to sort his aching body, “Where is she? Did you catch her?”

“No,” Sam admitted contritely. “She was gone when I got here.”

“What kept you?” Dean demanded to know as he propped himself up on his right elbow. “Didn't you see she went in here?”

“I thought I'd check the men's room first,” Sam replied, picking up Dean's knife and tucking it into his waistband. “But I was held up by the two guys I barged in on.”

Glancing up at Sam in confusion, Dean asked, “What guys?”

“Well, they were making out like teenagers,” Sam relayed sheepishly, “and reacted like I interrupted their honeymoon. We had a tangible argument.”

As visible proof, Sam sported the marks of a fist fight, the area around his left eye looking red and puffy. It would probably turn black and blue by the end of the day.

“Maybe she had them under her spell as well,” Dean speculated.

“Who knows,” Sam shrugged lopsidedly. “All she's got to do is touch them after all.

“Yeah,” Dean readily agreed. “But you know what? I think, she can even get into people's heads.”

Tilting his head back in disbelief, Sam asked, “What gives you that idea?”

“I wanted to attack her,” Dean told him, shifting his position a little to lean against the wall because his head felt as if it was about to fall off his shoulders. “I was determined, but I couldn't put it into action. It was... as if something paralyzed me. Not physically... but...”

“You better shake that off, dude, because we've got a job to do,” Sam declared, prodding his shoulder. “C'mon, let's get out of here.”

Before Dean could even get to his feet, though, a blond woman stepped in. Spotting the brothers, she quickly reached for her hip, bringing up a gun.

“NYPD,” she snarled. “What are you doing here?”

“He... felt sick,” Sam rushed to say, feeling himself blush inexplicably, “but we're in the wrong room. We're as good as gone.”

Reaching out for his brother, Sam helped him up to a standing position.

“Wait!” the female officer called out when Dean was about to push past her. “Did you see a blond man, tall, lean...”

“Gray suit?” Dean came back.

“Yes.”

The brothers shared a look and Sam groaned while Dean shook his head ever so slightly.

The silent conversation lasted a couple of seconds before Dean relented, “Yes, I've seen him. He left a moment before you got here.”

“Was somebody with him?” the officer asked, putting away her service piece.

“Yes, he was in the company of a... Ouch!”

Sam's elbow in his side stopped Dean's statement.

“Of a redheaded woman,” he finished his sentence, glaring at his brother, mouthing the word 'bitch'.

“Jerk,” Sam hissed back.

“That's all we saw, officer,” Dean rushed to assure her. “Can we go now?”

“No.”

Unfortunately, two more people entered the ladies restroom. One of them was a tall black man who was followed by a brunette. The latter wore a bulletproof vest with NYPD emblazoned on it.

“Rollins, did you find Carisi?” she asked.

“No, Lieutenant,” the officer called Rollins replied. “But I came across two witnesses.”

“Actually, we only saw the two of them leave,” Sam stated. “I don't know how we could help you.”

The cops shared a quick glance that made the brothers uneasy. Knowing how police procedures worked, they knew they could not afford getting stuck at a police station. They had a job to do.

“Look,” Dean started out, “We'd really like to help, but we have a very important job to do and...”

“Trust me,” the man sneered, “whatever job you have isn't as important as you think.”

“You're not going anywhere before you tell me about my detective,” the lieutenant informed them matter-of-factly.

“That'll be a very short conversation,” Dean remarked wryly, curling his lip.

Sam rolled his eyes with exasperation.

The lieutenant cocked her head at her colleagues and all of a sudden, the other officers produced handcuffs.

“Lieutenant, that won't be necessary,” Sam tried to argue. “We'll cooperate. Can't we give our statements here? We wouldn't lose that much time...”

“The less you'll complain, the less time you'll lose,” the blonde told them sweetly. Despite her words, her hand rested on the butt of her gun again and she looked very much like she would use it should the men make a wrong move.

Exchanging one last silent look, the brothers surrendered.

 

tbc...

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you happen to have a harmonica?”

  
“Sorry, what?”

  
With confusion, Sam glowered at his brother. They were currently being held in an interview room, in a police station, in the heart of Manhattan. There was a reason they avoided big cities and this was just one of them. Still, tracking down and neutralizing their target had taken priority. A task for which the cops were definitely not ready. Unfortunately, being stuck here meant that he and Dean could not follow the demon's trail either.

  
“That's what the men in old western movies do when they sit in prison, right?” Dean mused, straddling the chair he sat on and leaning on the backrest, resting his chin on his forearms, “They play a sad tune on a harmonica.”

  
Not for the first time, Sam fought the urge to throttle his big brother.

  
“Well, at least we're not in prison,” Sam groused. “Be thankful we're not. Never doing that again.”

  
“Hey,” Dean complained, “That plan worked out just fine.”

  
“Yeah, you were _really pretty sure_...” Sam muttered dryly in reference to Dean's uncertain declaration of confidence way back when they had infiltrated Folsom Prison.

  
Dean smirked lopsidedly in response.

  
For a moment, they sat in silence.

  
“At least you didn't get us arrested,” Sam then stated. “They can hold us as witnesses, but...”

  
“I think we'll have to tell them the truth,” Dean cut him off.

  
“What?” Sam snapped back, perplexed. “Since when are we sharing such information with normal civilians, let alone the authorities?”

  
“She has taken their detective,” Dean argued, straightening to underline his argument. “They're cops, Sammy. All they suspect is a regular hostage situation. They'll try to go after her and they have no idea what they're up against.”

  
“Well, that's not our problem,” Sam replied. “We already have enough on our hands as is. Like getting out of here. She's _our_ responsibility. _We_ have to stop her. It would be a waste of our time trying to convince these guys that the supernatural exists.”

  
“Alright, Sam,” Dean scoffed, glaring at him challengingly, “Then tell me: where is she?”

  
Somewhat helplessly, Sam returned his brother's gaze.

  
Scoffing, Dean got up from his perch. “That's what I thought. We've been chasing her for a week now. She's got to have several hideaways. Perhaps, those cops might be able to locate her. We'll lead them out of harm's way and then go get her ourselves.”

  
“That's your plan?” Sam queried with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

  
“Yeah.”

  
“You're a jerk,” Sam remarked, but Dean only grinned. He stopped grinning, though, when the door opened and the lieutenant came in with the blonde woman in tow.

  
“Well, Mr. Carson, Mr. Richardson,” the lieutenant stated as she returned the fake documents to the brothers. “It appears that everything is in order with your licenses. However…” the woman paused, apparently still reluctant to full believe their story, “we still need to go over your statements before we release you.”

  
“Alright,” Dean replied smoothly, as he twisted his chair around and sat back down with his elbows on the table. “Because I’d like nothing better than to spend my afternoon with two lovely ladies, such as yourselves. Remind me, what’s your name again?”

  
Clearly unamused by Dean’s attempts at flattery, the older woman curtly replied, “I am Lieutenant Benson and this is Detective Rollins. And you and your buddy here are just two half-witted private investigators who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  
“Exactly,” Dean confirmed, ignoring the insult and offering her one of his widest grins. “Now... I saw the detective talk with the redhead. Actually, it looked like an argument.”

  
“Where?” Rollins cut in.

  
“Right outside the restroom,” Dean lied, “I got suspicious when I saw them both go in. That's why I checked on them.”

  
“Could you hear what they talked about?” Benson asked.

  
“Nope,” Dean shook his head. “Actually, I was thrown against the wall as soon as I stepped inside. They both left then. That's it.”

“Who shoved you?” Rollins demanded to know, eyeing him suspiciously.

  
“I think... it was her,” Dean answered, aware of her disbelief.

  
"Her?" Rollins parroted incredulously, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized him. " _She_ shoved you."

  
"Yeah. Something wrong about that?" Dean retorted. "I'm sure you could shove me around as well."

  
Though Rollins looked sour, she did not reply. Her lieutenant shared a few murmured words with her and the detective nodded.

  
"Mr. Richardson, please come with me," she turned to Sam.

  
"Pardon?"

  
"We just have a few questions," Rollins assured him, opening the door. "After you."

  
Shrugging his shoulders at his brother, Sam went with her, but not without shooting an angry look at Dean as he left.

  
In Rollins' place, an African American detective entered the interview room. To Dean, that was a clear sign that the nature of their conversation changed from interview to interrogation.

  
"Alright, Mr. Carson," Benson started, "Let me share what I think."

  
"Shoot," Dean invited leisurely.

  
"I believe that she's part of the case you're working," the lieutenant relayed. "You either want to find some incriminating evidence on her..." there she paused to gauge his reaction that was not forthcoming, "or you're in cahoots with her."

  
"What?" Dean almost choked on his amused gasp that was followed by an incredulous chuckle, "Nah! Nah, you got that totally wrong."

  
"Well, enlighten me," Benson challenged, leaning forward in her chair. With her arms resting on the tabletop, she stared him down.

  
_Good luck_ , Dean thought, grinning inwardly but still feeling a bit of unease under the woman's gaze. He knew he would never tell her anything he did not want her to know but clearly realized she was not the type of person with whom he wanted to play chicken.

  
When he only stared back instead of explaining himself, the lieutenant asked, "What do you know about her?”

  
Leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, Dean casually asked, “Do I need a lawyer?”

  
“Oh, c'mon,” Benson shrugged, still working the imitation tactic but from a different angle. “Is it such a big secret?”

  
“I don't know what you're talking about,” he shot back.

  
“We're talking about this woman, hot shot,” the male detective gruffly declared as he slapped a surveillance photo of Erin Petersen on the tabletop in front of the hunter.

  
“I thought you just wanted my statement but now I feel like you're trying to interrogate me. If you want to do that, then arrest me first,” Dean calmly replied, “But you should probably read me my Miranda rights.”

  
“Well, so far we're just talking,” Benson told him. “You assured us that you want to cooperate after all.”

  
“Right,” Dean nodded, “but I don't appreciate your aggressive interview method.”

  
Getting up from her seat, Benson leaned forward across the table to fixate her suspect with an intense stare, “Is this just a big joke to you?” she hissed. “One of my detectives went missing and you're refusing to share information with us. That's turning you into a suspect, Mr. Carson.”

  
“I've told you before that I don't have information about her,” Dean answered calmly.

  
“Oh, really?” Benson pushed. “Maybe you and your pal in the other room aided her in fleeing the premise. Maybe you found out about her business. And maybe... you wanted in on it.”

  
Heaving an exasperated sigh, Dean asked, “What business, Lieutenant?”

  
“As if you wouldn't know. Tell me all about the drug she's dealing.”

  
"Drugs?" Dean laughed. Secretly, his concern grew, though. It was possible that not every incident had hit the news. Maybe their target had caused more harm than they suspected. They had to get out of here as fast as possible before she could do anymore damage. "Seriously, lady. I have no idea what you're talking about."

  
"No, _a_ drug," Benson corrected, "A quite strong hallucinogenic aphrodisiac that is new on the market."

  
"Sorry," Dean shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know anything about it." Smiling encouragingly at her, he added, "But, tell you what, if we happen to come across a lead, we'll inform you of course."

  
Actually, Dean did not think he had convinced her. Thoughtfully, she eyed him intently, and Dean could just imagine her making plans for her further investigation.

  
Throwing a look at her colleague, she smoothly got up from her chair, and they left the room.

  
_Probably talking with Sammy_ , Dean mused. _Or wracking their minds about how they can keep holding us._

  
Drumming his fingertips on the tabletop, Dean waited. With every passing minute, the hunter became more restless. There was no guarantee that the being they were chasing was still holed up somewhere. On the other hand, New York City was the perfect place for somebody like her. Her lair would be well hidden, and if she decided to go under, they would not find her. They had to pick up her trace now, as long as it was still fresh.

  
When Benson finally returned, Sam was with her.

  
"Alright, once you've signed your statements, you can go."

  
The brothers did not have to be told twice.

xXx

Soon after leaving the precinct, Dean and Sam discovered that they were being shadowed. Annoyed but not surprised by the cops' resilience, they merely nodded at each other and split up.

  
Keeping a furtive eye on his brother as long as he still was in view, Dean was relatively certain that Sam was followed by the blonde detective, Rollins. So there were two cops to get rid of. His own shadow was the dark skinned detective whose name he did not know yet. While Sam continued down the street, Dean headed down the stairs to the subway.

Unfortunately, there were not as many people as he had hoped. Shaking the cop off would have been easier by day when all the commuters were on their way to or from the trains.

  
Dean just bounced down a flight of stairs, when the doors to a train opened. Glancing sideways in order to catch a glimpse of the cop, Dean tried to judge how far away he was.

  
Taking the rest of the steps in quick succession, Dean reached the platform and quickly crossed over to the train. Just as the doors closed behind him, the cop made a run for them. With a crooked grin, Dean waved him goodbye through the window as the train pulled away from the platform.

  
The hunter only went down the line for a couple of stops before disembarking. He would meet his brother at the shabby and therefore cheap hotel at which they were currently residing. First, he had to pick up Baby, though, so he went back to the Black Heron club and to the side alley where he had parked his black 1967' Chevrolet Impala earlier that night.

  
Just as he had unlocked the door and was about to climb into the driver's seat, Dean heard a rumpling noise and a groan. Looking down the dark alley, he could not spot anything right away. Producing a flash light, Dean moved a few steps deeper into the narrow passage, shining at a row of dumpsters.

  
Movement.

  
Alarmed, Dean also pulled out his gun.  
Another groan made the hunter approach cautiously. There was someone. A tall, lean figure stumbled out from between the dumpsters. In the ray of the flash light, the man was as pale as a ghost.

  
“Detective!” Dean called out. The blond police officer was the last one he had expected to see here. Still keeping his gun trained on the man, he asked, “Are you alright?”

  
“Not quite...” Carisi groaned, pressing a hand to his right temple. “Dizzy.”

  
“How did you get away?” Dean asked suspiciously.

  
“Away?”

  
Apparently, the detective was just as confused by his questions as Dean was by his appearance.

  
“From the woman,” Dean clarified. “The redhead. How did you escape?”

“Escape?” Carisi muttered to himself, thinking. “She... knocked me out, I think. I... woke up here.”

  
Fresh suspicion welled up in the hunter.

  
_Why should she let him go? Why not keep him after bringing him under her spell? That's unlike any demon._

  
Knowing the nature of the creature they were hunting, Dean could not quite wrap his head around running into the detective now.

  
_Maybe she really just wanted to get out of the club unchallenged? Either way, the cops will be less likely to bother Sam and me if they get their detective back._

  
Before he could think it further through, the detective suddenly lunged at him, pushing his weapon hand up and shoving Dean with his back against a concrete wall.

  
“Shit!”

  
Bringing up his knee, Dean hit the detective, forcing him back far enough that he could land a punch. They grappled for the gun, the fight swaying until Carisi managed to strike Dean's arm against the dumpster, knocking the weapon out of his hand. Dean's favorite, ivory handled colt went spinning across the asphalt, completely out of reach.

  
_I should've known_.

  
Hindsight could not help him when the next shove drove Dean hard against the building, almost knocking him out. It was not Carisi, though, who slammed him against the wall. Unfortunately, Dean knew that force only too well.

  
“Oh, Dean,” the hunter heard the melodic, mocking voice of the red-haired woman, “You're way too predictable. You should take a break, dear. Hunting's such a hard job for such a handsome human.”

  
The detective just stood in front of Dean, his expression blank.

  
_His job's done_ , Dean thought wryly, straining against the invisible power that pressed him against the building. Measuredly, the woman approached him, a wicked smile on her lips.

  
“Oh, sugar,” Erin purred as she reached up to caress his face. “I know of some better ways to occupy your time.”

  
“D-don't... touch me,” Dean ground out with an effort, loathing that she had let her fingertips run down his cheek and along his jaw. He searched her eyes and found them now pools of pure inky blackness. The being wearing Erin's meat suit was finally showing its demonic side. “Let go of me.”

  
“Why should I?” she chuckled humorlessly. “Without that special knife of yours or the Colt, you can't hurt me.”

  
The pressure on Dean's chest increased, winding him.

  
Gasping, the hunter began, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus—“

  
Chuckling softly, the woman before him easily silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips.

  
“Babe,” the demon turned to Carisi, “Get the gun for me.”

  
Will-less, the detective did as he was told.

  
Smirking devilishly at her captive, the demon asked, “Can you feel it already?”

  
Dean hated to admit it, but he did indeed feel what she was doing to him: he became aroused.

  
As she kept caressing his neck and his face, Dean became lightheaded from his hormones running amok. The tightening in his groins was not the only effect. Dean felt flushed all over his body, heat coursing through every fiber of his being, and his breathing quickened as he squirmed under her touch.

  
“I think I can let go of you now,” the demon purred, releasing the invisible hold on the hunter.

  
Back on solid ground, Dean instantly reached for his jeans, eager to find release.

  
“Oh, no!” she chastised, intercepting his hands. “That's not the plan. Sonny, dear, be so kind and cuff him.”

  
Readily, Carisi stepped up to Dean, wrangling his arms behind his back and applying his handcuffs.

  
“Fuck!” Dean cried out, straining against the steel enclosing his wrists. “Take them off!”

  
Following another order of his mistress, Carisi maneuvered the struggling hunter to the Impala. Getting him into the backseat turned out to be difficult.

  
“Sweetheart,” the demon in Erin's body cooed as she stepped up to Dean. “Stop resisting and get into the car. If you don't, then I can't give you the relief you're craving.”

  
The Winchester's rising erection was now pushing painfully at the confines of his pants as he sat down on the edge of the seat, his feet still firmly planted on the ground. Grasping his legs, the demon lifted them up and shoved him backwards into the vehicle. Lying on his back, Dean squirmed uncomfortably in a vain attempt to free his arms pinned beneath him. He desperately wanted to lay a hand on himself and release the ever mounting pressure. Only then could he concentrate on killing the demon now controlling the redhead’s body.

  
From deep in his throat, he snarled threateningly when she climbed in with him and reached for his fly.

  
“Don't you worry,” she purred, freeing his member and giving it two firm strokes. Given the state he was in, it was almost enough to set him off. “I know how to prevent you from shooting off too soon.”

  
With that, she put a cock ring on him.

  
Dean's eyes grew wide and a yelp escaped him. Captive in the hands of a demon, lying in the back of his own car, Dean was exposed, restrained (in more ways than one), and helpless. Moaning pitifully, he curled up on himself, trying to at least pull away from her.

  
Smirking devilishly, the demon gave her victim another pat and climbed out to get in on the passenger's side. With Carisi driving, the Impala vanished in the night.

tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's predicament becomes dire as the hunter turns into the prey.

Arriving at the hotel, Sam Winchester let himself into their room where he was going to wait for his brother. Knowing that Dean certainly went to pick up his car after shaking off his shadow, he decided to stay up and do some more research. So he sat down at the small table and began to sift through the information they had collected.

Actually, they knew plenty about the demon they were chasing. Together with hundreds of her kind, she escaped through Hell's Gate. It was not long afterwards that she had found a subject to possess and had taken Erin Petersen as her vessel.

After all the emotional upheaval of Dean's death, his resurrection on God's order, and starting down the path towards what lay ahead of them, the younger Winchester appreciated having a _normal_ hunt to work on for once.

And still, there was something different about this demon. Wherever she went, a trail of sex-craving people followed. Just like the two guys he had barged in on at the club, they got so turned on that they did not care where or with whom they had sex. Going off of what he had previously discovered about this particular demon's capabilities, those two men probably were not even gay. It intrigued Sam, and that was why he kept digging. He knew they were dealing with some kind of succubus but he had yet to figure out why she was so powerful and what her agenda was in 'infecting' so many people.

Immersed in his research, at first Sam did not notice anything wrong, but when he finally checked the time, he frowned.

Dean should have returned by now. Since his brother also had not called, Sam became concerned.

Time ticked by and two hours later, Dean still had not come back to the hotel. By this time, Sam had tried calling him a dozen times and yet had gotten no answer. Now his calls were going straight to voicemail, meaning the phone was probably dead. Dean did not answer any of his phones either.

"Where the hell are you?"

Knowing his older brother, Sam tended to rule out the possibility that Dean had not been able to get rid of the cop yet. If he got himself arrested, he would have contacted him.

Sam could not help but come to the conclusion that Dean was neither here nor answering his phone for one reason and one reason only: Their target, the succubus, had gotten a hold of him.

Grabbing the keys, weapons, and his jacket, Sam left the hotel to search for his brother.

 

xXx

 

Writhing in his car's backseat, Dean wished for his state of excitement to end. Due to his agitation and dire frustration, he could not even estimate how long they had been driving. At long last they stopped and both Carisi and the demon got out of the Impala.

"Baby,” Dean sighed, not quite certain why he addressed his beloved Impala. In this situation, she could not give him what he needed. For a second, his rage about somebody taking his car flared hot in his chest before he was overwhelmed by his current predicament. “Someone! Anyone! Please help!" Dean moaned, craning his neck to look down at the center of his arousal. As Erin had said, the ring around his member prevented him from finding release, prolonging his unbearable erection.

Squirming, Dean attempted to shove the handcuffs down past his butt, hoping to somehow get his hands to his front. He had to get rid of the offending metal ring! All he cared about at that moment was alleviating the pressure in his groin. His incapacity of doing anything about his persistent arousal was driving him nuts.

The door by his head opened and Carisi leaned inside the back of the cab. As their gazes met, Dean almost got lost in the deep blue eyes of the detective.

"Detective, help me," he moaned, hoping the blond man would take pity on him and remove the cockring. Any other thoughts, including escaping, had long fled his mind.

Looking down at the incapacitated hunter, Carisi murmured huskily, "Call me Sonny."

"Sonny, please," Dean begged, "It's too much. Please, I need you to take it off."

"I can't," Sonny replied almost regretfully.

Just for a second, Dean believed to see the astute cop flicker back into place, but then the blue eyes glazed over and Carisi bent down.

_Whoa!_

Dean could not cry out with shock as his lips were locked in a firm, upside down kiss. Only a few seconds later, he reciprocated eagerly despite his confusion about kissing another man. It just felt freaking good. When Sonny's tongue teased his lips, he opened his mouth to let him in.

"Sonny?"

The demon's questioning voice ended the heated moment.

Anxiously, Carisi pulled back, almost knocking the back of his head against the door frame as he stood. Remembering what was expected of him, he pushed his hands under Dean's shoulders to drag him out of the Impala.

Dimly, Dean was aware that his feet hit concrete. On unsteady legs, he stumbled upright and along in Carisi's hold. In the twilight that surrounded them, he observed his surroundings and identified the location as the inside of a derelict building.

After passing a door, they crossed another room before entering the demon's lair. Erin, or whatever her true name was, had made herself comfortable on a chaise lounge. Actually, she had a collection of plush furnishings that appeared out of place in the environment. Several shaded lamps, thick drapes and curtains, and countless pillows turned the vacated concrete place into a den of iniquity. Not to mention, there were various fetish paraphernalia strewn about the place.

Carisi led the hunter to a chain that hung from the ceiling. Threading the links under the hunter's arms before securing it with a padlock behind the man's back, the detective positioned Dean so he was forced to remain upright.

With his hands still cuffed behind his back, Dean was helpless. His heightened arousal pushed nearly every other thought from his mind, and the idea of fighting Erin flickered like a candle in a thunderstorm. Breathing heavily, he watched Carisi step back and sit on a thickly padded footstool.

“Well, well... Dean Winchester,” Erin purred from where she lounged.

“In the flesh,” Dean ground out, his body shuddering involuntarily.

“Really nice flesh, actually,” the demon sneered, her gaze dropping to the hunter's crotch. Swinging her legs over the edge of the seat, she gracefully got up and approached her captive.

“Don't!” Dean cried out, not really certain what he was protesting against. His attempt to shuffle out of her reach was thwarted by the chain.

“Easy there,” Erin soothed. “I just want to make you more comfortable.”

Squatting down in front of him, she grinned up at his member that rose from the still open fly. Pulling the laces open, she first removed Dean's shoes and then his socks. With skilled fingers, she unbuttoned his jeans, and pushed it down his legs. His boxers followed suit.

As she continued to forcibly remove his clothing, it became increasingly difficult to bite back his pleas. All Dean could do was moan.

He wanted to come.

He wanted to come now.

_Now!_

With growing frustration, Dean realized that his building orgasm had no way of reaching its climax. It sort of broke before it took him over the edge.

“Fuck! Please!”

“Such an impatient boy,” Erin flirtingly chided. “Grant the lady some fun, too.”

“Don't see no lady,” Dean pressed through gritted teeth.

“Touché.”

Aiming her hand at his member but not touching, Erin called on her forces and broke the cock ring that restricted Dean. A gasp escaped the hunter when his hips bucked involuntarily. Firmly taking hold of his member, she gave him a couple of strokes and Dean panted with the pleasure coursing through his system. It took only one more stroke to push him over the edge and he came long and hard.

Afterwards, he leaned in the chain around his chest, breathing heavily.

“Now, wasn't that good, Dean?” Erin demanded to know.

Momentarily, the Winchester was master of his senses. Seeing the black, soulless black eyes of the demon, he acted, citing:

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus...”

“Argh!” Erin snapped. “Don't you dare!”

“...spiritus, omnis...”

A slap across his face could not stop him.

“...satanica potestas, omnis incursio...”

There, the incantation died in his throat. Feeling the choking grip of two hands around his neck, Dean could not breathe, let alone speak. Panic widened his eyes and made him cry out silently to the man who had his throat in a firm hold. He had not noticed that Carisi had jumped up to come to the demon's aid. He already felt his senses dwindling when at last the cop stopped throttling him.

Coughing and gasping, Dean tried to regain his equilibrium, while Carisi sat back down on his stool as if nothing had happened.

“Don't you try that again,” the demon hissed, grasping Dean's chin and digging her nails into his cheeks. Meeting his gaze, she seemingly enjoyed observing his glare and his bared teeth. “You know, I was really tempted to kiss you,” she explained with malicious joy, “It would be so thrilling to have one of the infamous Winchester brothers at my beck and call.”

Using her free hand, she let her fingertips trail along his neck.

At once, Dean sensed the renewed stirring in his groin despite the fact that he had had a release only a few minutes prior. Fighting it was impossible. As long as she caressed him, her touch infused him with her pheromones, increasing his sexual arousal.

“But,” she stated threateningly, “right now I prefer you to squirm.”

What exactly her fingers did to him, Dean did not know, but he knew that his body began to jerk in an attempt to find contact. Bucking his hips, he tried to meet Erin's body. Unable to hit anything, Dean still felt the pressure grow until he unleashed again, this time without any obvious teasing.

This only fed her efforts to stir more excitement into him. About ready to burst, Dean could not think clearly. All he wanted was that next orgasm, just like a drug addict wanted his next hit.

As worked up as he was, Dean did not know whether he should be relieved or becoming desperate when the demon retreated back to her chaise lounge. Panting from his repeated orgasms, Dean swayed in the hold of the chain. Her parting caresses had triggered waves of building excitement, despite the fact that he had just climaxed twice.

Knowing that seduction was the demon's nature and that the unbridled lust he was experiencing was merely part of her unnatural abilities did not make him feel any different. Dean's head was swimming which made him suspect that the demon's powers were more than a match for all the knowledge and experience he had accumulated through the years

From her perch, the succubus watched curiously.

Wishing that he could wipe that smug smile off her perfect features was the last coherent thought Dean had before he noticed Carisi. Seeing the detective stand from his footstool and come closer, the hunter's libido wiped every trace of resistance from his mind.

_He's fucking gorgeous,_ Dean thought as his eyes raked over the detective's body. _I'm dying to touch his hot skin. First, we need to get rid of the suit, though_.

With Carisi standing directly in front of him now, Dean's patience was put to a test. His eyes fixed on the other man's lips, his desire grew by the second. When Carisi finally leaned in and kissed him, he could not help the joyous feelings of euphoria that washed over him.

While their lips became acquainted with each other, the detective's arms snaked around Dean to unlock the handcuffs that tied his hands behind his back. As soon as the metal bracelets came off and clattered to the floor, Dean grabbed for the detective's jacket to remove it. Experienced with undressing willing partners, the hunter made quick work of jacket, tie, vest, shirt, and undershirt.

At touching bare skin, Dean paused, his eyes growing wide. Carisi used the moment of his petrification to unlock the chain as well.

"First time?" Sonny asked as he removed the shackle from the other man's body, his voice husky with desire.

"What?" Dean replied, dumbfounded.

"Is this your first time with a man?"

Despite his blood gathering further south, Dean felt himself blush as he nodded.

"No reason to be scared," Sonny murmured, reaching for Dean's jean jacket, shoving it off his shoulders and down his arms. With the same motion, he came close again, breathing a light kiss on the hunter's lips before placing a few along the hunter's chiseled jaw.

The tingling sensation of these kisses finally pushed Dean past the breaking point. Taking a step back, he pulled on the rest of his clothes. Discarding them carelessly to the floor, he grabbed for Sonny, kissing him fiercely. The detective engaged in it readily, his hands alighting on Dean's hips. From there, he moved further into their embrace, hands sliding from hips to buttocks.

Dean moaned into Sonny's open mouth, enjoying the unfamiliar taste and feel of another male. One of his hands tangled into the other's blond hair, bending his head back so he could kiss and bite at his neck. In response, Sonny's fingers dug into his ass cheeks. As he resumed kissing the detective's mouth, tongue teasing the other's, Dean sensed a hand slide along the crack of his rear, a fingertip finding and teasing his back passageway. As a result, Dean's hips bucked forward against Sonny's. As the hold on him tightened, Dean contemplated literally jumping the other's bones. Their erect genitals rubbed together as the men groped at each other, sending sparks of pleasure throughout both their systems.

Dean readily gave in as he found himself being shoved backwards. His feet hit a soft edge where two mattresses, covered with several blankets, lay on the floor, making for a comfortable playing ground. Driven by Sonny, the hunter fell onto his back, the detective landing on top if him.

With a start, the hunter realized that Sonny lodged between his legs. Only for a second, doubt crossed his mind, before he pulled Sonny in for a fierce kiss.

The kiss only lasted a moment as Carisi's lips started drifting downward, kissing and licking at the hunter's skin: the curve of his neck, an erect nipple, his bare navel, the indent of his hips, the hardness of his dick, the tightening sack, and finally, his taint and puckered hole. As the detective teased and prodded the area with his tongue, Dean wondered at the amount and slipperiness of the moisture Carisi's mouth was producing. A small part of his brain wondered if this too was part of the demon's spell but his body relaxed as any fear he had about being too dry for the act subsided. Shifting upright, Carisi likced his own palm before rubbing his dick a few times to make sure it was coated.

Then, pressing the head of his member against Dean's hole, the detective asked, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Dean panted, “Do it. Do it now. Fuck me, please!”

Carisi pushed forward and the hunter gasped in pure blissful pleasure as the detective began to slowly rock into him.

From her perch, the demon watched with a satisfied grin how the detective popped the hunter's cherry, both men thoroughly enjoying it.

 

tbc...

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

  Neither combing the vicinity of the Lagoona club nor checking traffic footage unearthed a trace of Detective Carisi's whereabouts. The squad had discovered video evidence showing him leave with their suspect, but then the pair vanished from sight and could not be found again.

  Tracing Carisi's phone also yielded no results.

  Somehow, the private investigators that had witnessed the scene at the ladies' restroom were involved, Benson just could not put her finger on how or to which extent. As it was rather obvious that they would not get anything out of questioning the PIs, she had decided to let them go and put them under surveillance.

  However, the fact that her detectives lost them so quickly had not been part of the plan.

  Morning was dawning and the whole squad was concerned about their colleague. They had just gathered at the conference table to discuss further actions when someone unexpected entered the squad room. Surprised, Benson recognized one of the private investigators.

  Hovering near the door, he looked around searchingly, paused when he spotted the team, and then approached them purposefully.

  "Lieutenant, could I speak with you for a moment?"

  "Mr. Richardson," Benson greeted with surprise. "Is it about the case?"

  The man nodded.

  "Well, then,” Benson paused purposefully, “you are free to share your thoughts with all of us."

  Eyeing the group with trepidation, Richardson shook his head, “I'd prefer talking with you in private, Lieutenant. Please.”

  Sharing a look with Fin, Benson made a decision and got up from the table to lead the PI to her office. Closing the door behind them, she asked, “So, what information do you have for me?” Tilting her head slightly to catch the man’s gaze she pushed, “Must be something of a sensitive nature if you are unwilling to share it with my whole team.”

  “It’s not sensitive. I just doubt anyone will believe me. But, I _can_ help you solve the case,” the P.I. informed her. Seeing her interest, as well as an objection, coming, he held up a stalling hand. “First, I need you to listen, though. Listen to my tale and not dismiss everything right away because it sounds too ludicrous to believe.”

  Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Benson agreed, gesturing him to go on.

  “Alright, first off, my name's not Richardson.” Of course, he could see that Benson was about to argue, but to her credit, she swallowed any comment. “Our fake identities are meant to protect us, as our job is very dangerous and there are entities who want us dead.”

  At that, Benson eyed him skeptically. In her opinion, private investigators were not at any more risk than officers of the law, but at the same time, she stumbled over his use of the word _entities._ In the hope that he actually could help find Carisi, she decided to let him talk.

  “My real name's Sam Winchester. Me and my brother, we are hunters,” Sam went on, “Ghosts and other supernatural beings, like demons or vampires, are real and it's our job to track the evil ones down and get rid of them.”

  When he paused for a second, she cut in, “Sorry, but you lost me when you said _ghosts.”_

  “Actually, I don't think I did,” Sam told her flatly. “You're an intelligent woman and seasoned officer, not to mention capable of knowing when someone is lying to you. You know that you heard right, and I can assure you that it's in your and your detective's best interest that you hear me out.”

  “Alright...” Benson was not above listening to what the man had to say, no matter how insane his statements might be. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone out of touch with reality was able to assist them in a case.

  Heaving a sigh, Sam addressed the most important matter, “My brother told me that you believe that the woman is dealing a new drug. That's incorrect but not far from the truth. She's possessed.”

  “Possessed.”

  “Yes, possessed. By a succubus to be exact.”

  “A succubus,” Benson echoed with clear disbelief.

  “Right,” Sam insisted, hoping she would not parrot everything he told her. “The lore has it that succubi appear in dreams and take the form of a woman in order to seduce men. Usually, she's doing that through sexual activity. Religious traditions hold that repeated sexual activity with a succubus may result in the deterioration of health or mental state or even death.”

  There, Sam paused again, trying to give her an opportunity to ask questions.

  “Go on,” Benson just said.

  “As a matter of fact, a succubus basically is a demon. And I don't mean a dark and horrific creature or however else demons are commonly pictured. This demon is seductiveness personified. Her touch, even her closeness can affect people, and her kiss is enough to bring them under her spell.”

  When he paused this time, Benson asked after a short moment of hesitation, “Do you think that happened to my detective?”

  “Dean said she kissed him.”

  Benson accepted that with a nod.

  “Alright, Mr. Winchester,” she said, “let's assume for a moment that you _are_ telling the truth... Why would you share your knowledge with me now?”

  “Because we're in the same boat,” Sam admitted without hesitation. “I have reason to believe that my brother came across her again. He's vanished and I think that wherever he is, you'll find your detective, too.”

  “You want my help,” Benson stated with incredulous amusement.

  “Well, yes,” Sam shrugged lopsidedly. “So I really hope that you accept my words at face value and don’t call in the men with the straightjacket. Time is ticking. So, can you help me and let me help you?”

  Thoughtfully, Benson leaned back in her chair.

  
  


xXx

  
  


  Pure exhaustion had put Sonny and Dean's lovemaking to a pause, both of them falling asleep in a tangle of limbs.

  When Sonny woke, he instantly sensed his tingling arousal and the warm breath of the other man on his chest. A content smile cracked his features. Gently, he ruffled the dark blond hair, trying to wake Dean up. The hunter looked nothing like the counselor he’d kissed in the elevator. However, Dean was ten years Barba’s junior and pretty damn sexy. Needless to say, Sonny was thanking his lucky stars that he was in his current position.

  Feeling Dean stir, Sonny breathed a kiss onto his temple.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  They shared a slow, leisurely kiss. Sonny enjoyed the feel of Dean's soft lips on his own and licked at them to explore further. Apparently, Dean liked it, because he mirrored the tease with his own tongue. Sonny felt a hand in his hair and expected Dean to try and take control. He did not mind giving himself over to the inexperienced hunter as his slow exploration made him tingle in all the right places. 

Bending his head back, he offered Dean his throat and felt the light graze of his teeth. Then the younger man sucked on his neck, leaving a red mark. Sonny reciprocated by turning Dean onto his back and leaning over in order to tease his nipples, licking and sucking on one while rubbing the other with his fingertips. His free hand moved down to Dean's groin and began to caress his member to erection.

  Thanks to the pheromones that still raged inside their bodies, it did not take much work to get them both fully erect and eager for more.

  “Love this,” Dean moaned under Sonny's ministrations.

  “You're getting the hang of it, too,” Sonny teased.

  “Well, I've always been a quick learner,” Dean chuckled and reached for the back of Sonny's neck to pull him down into a kiss.

  So far, the succubus had just watched from her chaise lounge, but now, she got up and knelt down beside the entwined couple.

  “Sonny,” she murmured, as she caressed Dean's shoulder in order to push him completely down the rabbit's hole. As the detective already was entirely under her spell, she had no need to influence him any further. “I think the footstool would be a great idea.”

  “Right,” Sonny mumbled against Dean's lips. “What do you think, sweetie? Let's get over to the footstool?”

  “What for?” Dean asked back, eagerly kissing a trail down Sonny's neck to his chest. His hands were on Sonny's hips, pulling him against himself.

  “You'll see,” Sonny replied cryptically, disengaging himself from Dean just so far that the other man could get up with him. “C'mon.”

  “See what?” Dean wanted to know between kisses.

  Even entangled as they were, Sonny managed to maneuver them over to the furniture. Brushing her fingertips once more along Dean's shoulder, the demon put a big pillow down on the floor before she returned to her seat to watch.

  At once, Sonny realized what the pillow was meant for and his member twitched with the pictures that formed in his head. Willingly, the man in his arms let himself be turned around, leaning with his back against Sonny's chest. Wrapping his arms around Dean from behind, Sonny caressed his chest and stomach while he kissed the side of his neck.

  “Kneel down on the pillow,” Sonny murmured into Dean's ear. Just for a second, he felt him hesitate before he smoothly squatted down and then knelt, the soft padding protecting his knees from the hard floor. Still standing behind the younger man, the detective demanded, “Now bend over.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, please,” Sonny hummed, kneeling down with him and taking him by the shoulders. Softly kissing the back of Dean's neck, Sonny convinced him to follow the order. As the hunter leaned forward, his torso across the length of the footstool and his arms supporting him on either side, his backside came up in front of Sonny.

  The detective marveled at the firm rounds of his buttocks. Lightly resting his hands on the insides of Dean's thighs, he pushed, encouraging him to open his legs a little further.

  “Sonny?” Dean's voice wavered with insecurity.

  “Shhh,” Sonny soothed, smoothing his palms up the thighs, around the perfect cheeks and up on both sides of the spine. Letting his hands travel back down, he then teased the onset of the crack between the rounds.

  Following an impulse, Sonny slapped that perfect ass.

  “Ouch!” Dean called out indignantly. “What was that for?” 

Actually, he didn’t need to ask, because his own cock jumped with the sudden sting. 

“Do that again!”

  Happily obliging, Sonny spanked Dean's ass again.

  And again.

  Again.

  Again.

  “Whoa!” Dean mock-howled when Sonny's flat hand struck his butt. “Fuck that’s good!”

  As glad as Sonny was that Dean got off on being hit, he now wanted to follow through with the original idea. So he took position behind Dean and grabbed his hips.

  “Sonny?”

  Hearing the surprise mingling with Dean's agitation, Sonny let his hands slide to his butt to spread the cheeks which elicited a gasp from Dean. One hand smoothed around from there to find Dean's already hard member. Languorous strokes drove both of them up another notch. While Sonny teased Dean, he used his other hand to apply some conveniently available lubricant and prep himself. Lining his erect member up with the hunter's opening, Sonny gripped his waist tight, holding Dean in place as he breached him.

  A cry fell off Dean's lips when he felt himself getting filled. It still was strange, but as he wanted the other man so much, he would allow him anything. With Sonny's hands gone again, his own member strained for relief, but instead, his arousal was pushed from one level to the next and so on until he thought he could not take any more. Inside of him, Sonny was rocking forward and back, and Dean did his best to meet his rhythm. Repeatedly hitting his prostate, Sonny made Dean beg and curse in turns.

“Fuck, Carisi! More!”

“You like that?” Sonny replied as he forced the hunter back on his cock. “You like me filling you up?”

“Yes,” Dean gasped. “Fuck. I’m going to come.”

“That’s right,” Sonny panted as he increased his movements, striving to hit the hunter’s spot in just the right place, “take my cock and come all over yourself.”

Dean clenched around Sonny as the detective fiercely rocked into him.

Splattering the fabric of the footstool with his seed, Dean went limp as Sonny’s pace slowed and bucked his hips into the hunter a few more times before he shuddered and spent his load in the other’s ass.

  Panting heavily, the pair came down from their orgasms. Still conjoined, they both noticed, though, that the low did not last for long. Soon, the high began to build again.

  “What's up, boys?” the demon teased, “Exhausted already? C'mon, you can do more than that...”

  She could not even finish her sentence before the boys were at it again, Sonny rocking into Dean with even more conviction. Heavy pants and grunts, as well as Dean's begging for more, filled the room.

  Leaving her chaise to perch on the edge of the footstool, the demon cupped one of Dean's cheeks. Tilting his head up, she looked at his green, lust-glazed eyes and smiled. Right at that moment, the hunter was so far gone that he would do just about anything.

  Actually, Dean wondered what she was waiting for.

  “P-p-please.”

  The hunter’s heart skipped a beat when she held her hand down and traced his lips with her fingertips. His body eager for as many stimuli as it could get, he parted his lips and began to lick and suck her digits. Rocking his mouth along her fingers in time with Sonny’s thrusts. Lost in his lustfulness, he closed his eyes.

  “You like that, don't you?” he heard Sonny gasp. “Show me how much you like it.”

  Forcing his head forward, Dean gagged on the demon’s fingers as he felt them brush the back of his throat. Saliva dripped down his chin and his eyes watered as she added a third finger. 

  “Yeah... that's right. Show me...” Sonny's words got lost in his heavy breathing.

  Teetering on the brink of bliss, Dean eagerly let himself be fucked by fingers and cock. Filled up like he was, coherent thoughts eluded him. All that existed right then were the intense sensations of his throat and prostate being hit in unison. 

  A second before completion, the demon drew back, soaking up her fill instead.

  Skin glistening with perspiration, the men reached another orgasm. As Dean could easily rest on the footstool, Sonny collapsed on top of him, both of them gasping for breath.

  When Sonny tried to get up, he unbalanced them and they rolled off to the side, lying on the bare concrete.

  Dean laughed, asking, “Can I?”

  “Can you what?” Sonny asked back.

  “I want to know what it's like,” Dean declared, shifting his position so he could look at the detective. Captivated by the curve of his lips, he leaned in to kiss Sonny feverishly. Dean’s hands roamed over his body, this time reaching for firm, round buttocks himself. Still kissing, he began to explore Sonny's rear.

  “Sure you can,” Sonny hoarsely murmured when they broke off to get a breath. “Just...”

  Crawling across Dean, Sonny got to the pillow and took the position that the hunter had been in before. Quickly catching on, Dean followed and knelt behind him. Finding the lube, he used it on himself and the tight ass in front of him. His first explorations with his fingers prepared Sonny for the actual act. Driven by his overwhelming desire, Dean dove in with confidence, burying himself in the other man's opening in one go.

  With a cry of shock and lust, Sonny arched his back. His words were gone. Only sensation was left which drove him to buck his hips back.

  Penetrating another man's ass deep felt strange and familiar at the same time, and Dean thrust eagerly into the tight heat surrounding his cock. 

Fuck. The detective might have had more experience but it didn’t make his ass any less pleasurable. Dean marveled at the tight sensation and the firmness of the ass underneath him.

“Aaaaahh!” Sonny gasped, his eyes going wide and a shudder of bliss ran through his core.

Dean had found the spot. As eager as he was to be on the receiving end earlier, the hunter was just as eager to elicit the type of pleasure he had so recently experienced.

“Right there?” Dean asked, positioning his hips and pushing forward into the detective with his dick. “Is that where you want it?”

“Yes!”

“You want my fucking cock in your ass, don’t you?”

“Fuck, Dean! Yes!”

“What do you want?”

“Fuck me in the ass with your cock. Keep spreading me wide. I want it all.”

The hunter nearly died right then and there as he had never heard anything so alluring in his life. It was all he could do to comply with the detective’s wishes. 

Soon, both men reached orgasm together, their bodies jerking with the exertion. When Dean collapsed above Sonny, they fell to the floor.

  Grinning salaciously, the succubus watched the shivering bodies at her feet. She knew that it would not take long until they felt their arousal rise again. Right at that moment, though, they were too spent to make their bodies work. So she got up and crossed over to a sink where she filled a bowl with water. Together with washcloths and towels, she brought it back to her perch. There, she waited until she saw Sonny stir.

  “Babe, come up to me,” she told him and he readily complied. Standing in front of her, he let her use the soaked washcloth on him. Humming to herself, she cleaned him up thoroughly. “So, that's better, isn't it?”

  “Sure,” he lightly replied.

  “C'mon, babe,” she purred, “Take Dean back to the mattress.”

  Without missing a beat, Sonny turned around to do as he was told. As groggily as Dean was, it took Sonny a bit of an effort to make him come with him. Upon reaching the bed, Dean stretched out on it, still too exhausted to react to the renewed stirring in his loins.

  Seeing Sonny's disappointment, the succubus joined him on the cushions. Kneeling next to him, she cupped his cheek in her hand to turn his head and kissed him. This time, she did not do it to assure his obedience but just for the joy of it. Kissing the detective felt great. First, she had to take care of Dean, though, cleaning him as thoroughly as Sonny. Then, she turned back to the detective again, caressing him encouragingly and allowing her slave to assault her with more kisses. Then, she wanted to watch again.

  The problem was that Dean still was mostly out of it.

  “I have an idea,” she murmured close to Sonny's ear. “Help me turn him.”

  Together, they rolled the hunter onto his side. Sonny already was about to stretch out beside him when the succubus grabbed him by the back of his neck.

  "Try the other direction," she murmured sweetly, guiding him down.

  Following her gentle prodding, Sonny lay down on his side as well, excited at realizing that she positioned his head near Dean's crotch.

  Putting one arm around the hunter's waist for support, he wriggled closer, eyeing the jewels in front of him with joyous expectation. His own member rose expectantly, which was one more reason why he liked this position. Glancing down his body, he noted that he should angle himself a bit more. As he did, the head of his cock touched the tip of Dean's nose which made him stir.

  Chuckling to himself, Sonny began to lick at Dean's genitals.

  Consequently, Dean woke to the pleasurable sensation of his already erect penis enclosed by something soft and warm. Opening his eyes to Sonny's engorged cock, there simply was no other option than to go all in.

  Taking Sonny into his mouth, Dean first licked at it, tasting Sonny's uniqueness. Then he began to suck in response to what he felt Sonny doing.

  Kneeling beside them, the succubus reached out for them to rake her fingers through dark and honey blonde hair respectively. Under her ministrations, she could sense the men work each other into a frenzy. They were groping and caressing as well, trying to get as close together as possible.

  Soaking up the men's emotions, the succubus reveled in the raw sexual excitement that coursed through her and that she needed like other creatures needed oxygen to breathe. Being with them, her own experience was stronger than when she harvested from a distance.

  "Yes, you're almost there," she sighed, knowing exactly when her playmates were about to come.

  Curling her fingers into their hair, she opened herself for their orgasms. Sensing that Dean was hesitant to swallow, she pushed some more need into him.

  Readily, he received what Sonny was giving him straight down his throat.

  "That's it, boys," she breathed. "Yes! Come for me."

  With a pang of regret, she separated the pair when they were spent, knowing that they might never come up for air if she let them continue like this.

  She was not through with them yet.

  
  


tbc...

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

“You've got to be kidding me,” Fin blurted out.

Sam had just got done telling the squad about what he and Dean _really_ did for a living during a briefing Benson had called.

“You actually think we'd buy that crap?” Rollins demanded to know.

The selective group of colleagues that gathered in the lieutenant's office found it hard to accept what sort of case Sam Winchester was presenting. Benson could see why her detectives were skeptical, but as Sam had said, time was ticking. They had to make a plan and put it into action. Besides, what other option did they have? Even if Sam was insane, it could not hurt to follow the lead he presented. It was, after all, the only one they had.

“I'm deadly serious,” Sam replied.

Fin shook his head with disbelief and Rollins did not look convinced.

Sam could not begrudge them that. If he had led a normal life and was suddenly told that the stories about monsters, ghosts, and demons were true, he would not believe it either. Right at that moment, he could not afford the time it would take to let them work through it. Knowing this, Sam was grateful that one of the men within the room spoke up and gave validity to his proposition, all with a simple statement.

“If that demon is as powerful as you've claimed, I imagine that you don't have an arrest and a trial in mind,” Barba stated.

“Actually, no. Not exactly,” Sam replied.

“So if we can't incarcerate her, what do you expect us to do with her?” the prosecutor wanted to know.

“I don't expect you to do anything,” Sam replied. “I will have to deal with her.”

“Deal with her how?” Barba challenged, putting voice to the question that everyone else in the room wanted answered.

“I'll try to exorcise the demon,” Sam explained. “If that's not possible and push comes to shove, I'll have no choice but to kill her.”

“Won't that kill the host as well?” Rollins interjected.

Sam did not look apologetic when he answered truthfully, “Yes.”

“We can't condone murder,” Fin said, his tone rather hostile.

This statement resulted in an awkward silence. To everyone's astonishment, it was Barba again who spoke up.

“It's not murder. It's a sacrifice for the greater good.”

Everyone of his colleagues stared at him.

“And seriously,” Barba went on, “would you want to be possessed by a demon? You might do that woman a favor, ending her suffering.”

“Barba!” Benson snapped, “that's euthanasia and illegal in New York State. As a prosecutor--”

"Actually, the host might already be dead," Sam cut her short. "She might be ever since the demon possessed her body. We've got no way of knowing until the demon's exorcised."

“Either way, we'd have to cover it up,” Rollins argued.

An argument ensued and Sam became more and more impatient. Once more, it was not him who interrupted the discussion.

“Enough,” Barba declared, getting up from his chair. “I'd suggest all of you go with this young, instead of talking your heads off. We need to get Carisi back and we need to do it now.”

After a moment of stunned silence, Rollins stated wryly, “In order to do that, we need to find them.”

“We could try and track his phone,” Sam suggested.

“We already tried. Carisi's phone isn't active. No GPS signal.”

“I meant my brother's phone,” Sam returned as he pulled his own phone from his pocket in order to give them Dean's cell phone number.

 

xXx

 

"Dean, sweetie," the succubus purred, "turn over."

Lost as he was in his demon-induced lust, Dean readily turned onto his back.

"What do you want me to do?" Sonny threw in, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Just keep yourself in the right mood, babe," Erin told him, appeasing him with a kiss. "Why don't you touch yourself until I need you?"

"Sure," he nodded, sitting down in the cushions beside Dean.

Positioning herself above Dean as she straddled his body, she looked down at him with a wicked grin. With his face flushed, breathing heavily, and gazing up at her with irrevocable desire, he was so far away from his hunter-self as a bunny was from a rattlesnake. She thoroughly enjoyed having the older Winchester brother at her disposal. However, before she turned him into her slave like the detective, she was going to have him in every way she could think of.

"On second thought," she mused aloud, "Why should I keep Dean all to myself? C'mon, Dean, give Sonny a helping hand."

More than willingly, Dean reached out for the detective and began to rub his penis.

"Spread your legs, babe."

Dean did as he was told, planting his feet in the cushions as he did. Feeling Sonny harden under his touch was enough for his own body to react with a matching erection to the one he held in his hand.

That was when the succubus shed her dress, towering naked over him.

 _Oh, yes_ , Dean thought as she knelt down, her hands coming to rest on his chest, and impaled herself on him. Her soft wetness welcomed the hunter to a new dimension of pleasure. With his hands full of both Sonny's cock and the succubus riding him, his agitation quickly rose.

"Sonny," she gasped, "come, I want the both of you inside me. Take me from behind."

Before Dean comprehended what she meant, Sonny pulled out of his hold and got behind the demon. As she leaned forward, she took hold of the hunter's wrists and brought them down beside his head, keeping them pinned with her weight. She was right there, soft lips smiling at him and her long red hair falling around them like a veil.

_It would be so easy to kiss her._

Just as Dean was about to crane his neck to kiss her, he felt a pressure that he could not describe rub against his member that was already sheathed inside the demon. Only when their bodies began to rock, did he realize that the sensations he was feeling were due to the presence of the detective's cock. Sonny had taken a position behind their mistress and had entered her back passage way. Now, only the thin tissue of her host's body separated the two men.

The thought alone almost was enough to make Dean come.

With Sonny setting the rhythm, they rocked only a couple of times until Dean could not hold out any longer. Ejaculating into the demon's depths, the hunter threw back his head and gasped loudly with the sensations thrumming up and down his spine.

On the other hand, the detective and the demon were not anywhere near finished and Sonny kept a steady rhythm as he fucked that tight hole clenching around his penis. The weight of them pushed against Dean as he lay beneath them. Even in his post-climatic haze, Dean was more than happy to be involved in the act of their lovemaking, even if it was simply to act as a piece of furniture.

And then, the succubus cried out in pleasure, as her clit had been rubbing against Dean while Sonny was inside her ass. Her legs trembling, she clenched down and Dean could feel the signs of her climax flowing down from her sex and onto him. Crying out with lust and pleasure, Sonny came as well.

“I knew you could do it,” she praised on heavy breaths as she lifted one hand and brushed her fingertips from Dean's forehead to the bridge of his nose. “Sleep.”

Instantly, the hunter closed his eyes and was dead to the world.

Extricating herself from the men she turned around to Sonny, doing the same to him. Asleep in an instant, Sonny collapsed next to Dean.

“Well done, my little playthings,” she cooed. “Really good for two humans.”

A clatter caught her attention as she got to her feet above the men, listening intently. Silently, she stalked off the mattresses to a wardrobe, getting out light trousers and a top that she slipped on her slender frame. The sound did not come again but she remained on guard.

Nothing and no-one was going to interrupt her. The best was yet to come.

 

xXx

 

Lieutenant Benson could not remember a previous field mission where she had felt as high-strung and ridiculous at the same time as as she did now. Given her extensive work experience that was an extraordinary feat.

Looking around at her detectives, she thought that they likely felt the same. Both Fin and Rollins wore stern expressions as they all had donned their protective vests. Sam on the other hand thought that the latter were useless and had given them all amulets to protect them against possession. Still, the cops knew from experience that it was better to have the vest and not need them than to need them and not be wearing one.

Once Dean's phone had been tracked, the small team prepared to take down the succubus. Keeping the number of officers involved to a minimum, they all were able to get into two squad cars and ride together to the location in Hell's Kitchen.

 _Certainly not a coincidence that she chose a hideaway in that area,_ Benson thought.

As he had emphatically insisted, Barba also came along with them. Upon arrival and as the cops got ready to enter the building, it was Benson who emphatically insisted that the prosecutor stay behind in the car. Muttering something unintelligible under his breath, he sank back down in the passenger's seat.

Silently but efficiently, the team entered the building through a side door. They did not know where exactly the succubus had her lair and whether or not she held her captives there.

Cautiously, they stalked through the hallways in search of the demon or the missing men. Seeing a sliver of light at the end of a hall, they checked their weapons again. It was so weird to feel the synthetic grip of plastic in hand. Actually, it had been Rollins' idea and not the seasoned hunter that had come up with the idea after they had thoroughly interrogated Sam on the different tactics that could be used on a demon.

Peeking through the gap of the door, Fin nodded at the others.

_This is it._

Giving the others the hand signals that they were going to storm the lair, Benson moved forward alongside Fin before stepping to the sides to let the other two in as well. Rollins and Sam were right behind them.

“Who dares to... Aaaargh!

Darting forward through the door, each one of the police officers and Sam opened fire on her. Surrounding her quickly as they took aim and pelted her with ammunition

The succubus' curse turned into a painful scream as mists of vapor began to billow from her form where the holy water made contact with her body. Water pistols had seemed like a ludicrous idea at first, so seeing how effective their weaponry was against the hell-spawn was surprising. Just for a moment, the cops stopped firing when the holy water they had loaded in their guns seared the demon and white steam rose from her body.

“Keep shooting,” Sam commanded, stepping forward.

While the others thoroughly watered the demon, Sam lifted his hand in her direction and began an incantation.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!”

Breaking to her knees, the demon threw her head back, black smoke rushing from her open mouth and vanishing through an air vent. As her scream died away, the woman slumped forward and Sam caught her fall.

“That was it?” Rollins gasped.

“Yep.”

Carefully, Sam lowered the woman down to the floor. His fingertips gently pressed against the side of her neck as he found her pulse.

“She's alive,” he stated. “Do you see my brother?”

“He's over here!” Fin called back. “So is Carisi!” His voice caught with trepidation as he added, "Um... they’re both in their birthday suits so you ladies might want to avert your eyes."

"There's nothing I haven't seen before, Fin," Rollins remarked wryly.

"He's your partner, Amanda," Fin groused, using one of the blankets on the pallet to cover the men's private parts.

“That was almost too easy,” Benson stated, also feeling a pang of anxiety concerning the state of the hostages.

“It is when you know what you're doing,” Sam replied, getting back up and crossing over to the pallet to crouch down beside his brother who seemed to be unconscious. His worry increased a notch at seeing both men covered in fluids. “Dean? Dean, can you hear me? Wake up.”

The older Winchester brother groaned. So did Carisi when Fin tried to rouse him.

“C'mon, you jerk,” Sam prodded, shaking him on the shoulder and patting his cheek. “Speak to me. Dean?”

“Sam?”

At least Sam hoped that that was what Dean uttered as it was a faint and garbled sound. Sluggishly, his brother lifted a hand in his direction but let it fall onto his chest. His eyelids fluttered and closed again.

“He seems to be totally beat,” Fin remarked as he attended to his colleague.

“Who knows what she's done to them,” Rollins mused. “Or they did to each other... either way, I've called a bus.”

“Good,” Fin nodded.

Hearing hurried footsteps approach, Rollins added, “And Barba.”

As if on cue, the prosecutor entered the demon's lair, looking around wildly in search of Carisi. Spotting the detective on the cushions, he rushed to his side.

"Dean," Sam muttered helplessly, "he's straight. I mean, he'd never..."

Trailing off, he looked down at his older brother with concern. From there, his gaze wandered over to Carisi and Barba. The worry got the better of him as he asked, "Is he gay? Did he... force my brother?"

"He certainly did not," Barba remarked acidly. "You were the one who painted a vivid picture of that demon's abilities. If anyone is to blame, it's her."

Lowering his gaze, Sam had to concede that the prosecutor was right. Unsure of what to do or think, he tried to take care of his brother the best he could, shifting his own position so he could rest Dean's head in his lap until the paramedics arrived.

 

tbc...

 

 


End file.
